Crying Like a Girl
by Insert a Catchy Penname Here
Summary: Takes place prior to the Fall of Five. Seven, Eight, Nine. Those who regret the most for the one who died. One shot.


Crying like a Girl 

_**Seven **_

_Crying like a Girl. _

This final insult to Five became his breaking point, the point where his own inner rage and hate took over. Eight was the one who suffered the consequences, in theory at the least. His death was quick, unjustified and sharp, but it was quick. I numbly assure myself that he did not suffer despite him always deserving so much better. He suffered much from the time we came to Earth- He was almost eight when Lorien fell, he lost his Cepan when he was thirteen to a human.

_He dared to love me. _

His death being painless is what he deserves if that was how it was to be.

But it was not _how _it was supposed to be. I was supposed to have saved his life in New Mexico, to have broke the prophecy, and yet it was in vain. His previous appreciation for my deed fell short, and the words he spoke echo in my coldened mind. Aside for Ella and Hector, he was the only one I opened up too, and felt comfortable enough around to be _Marina_. Not _Number Seven_, but Marina.

And now he is gone.

I have not felt since his death, not anything but spurts of pain that damage my battered chest and make fractures in my shattered heart. For him we will win this war. We can not afford another death, but I wonder if I will truly feel it. His end has left me hollow and as cold as the ice legacy I developed prior to Five killing him.

He left because of Nine.

I do not hate him in the slightest- He is still one of the only Loric left. We are forced as a team and will learn to cope better, perhaps more so when the war's outcome is found. He is the reason, though; we all know this. I do not cry as Nine taunted to Five, but I do feel regret just as he does. Both of us had become close to him in one way or another; they were unspoken friends and Eight and I were each other's crush.

Now that the void Eight filled for both of us is empty, we have moved slightly closer.

We do not speak or touch much, but we are the same in what we lost. With John and the others escaping Chicago, we are with each other with Six being as a makeshift leader for the time being. He and I can feel the same emotions though neither of us acknowledge it.

I do not regret my feelings for Eight or for Nine.

I only regret my coping being shielding my heart with the ice I now bore. Eventually, though, all ice must shatter.

* * *

**_Eight _**

_Crying like a girl. _

I had the ability to care.

When Reynolds died, I found my heart longing for something to fill the numbed part of my heart. Finding none on the mountains, I shoved away my emotions with training and exploring as I did when I was a young, spirited child. Doing these things and talking to the haunting ghost of Reynolds in my own mind helped me cope. When the others came along, though, this part of my heart felt a pang.

She was _beautiful. _

She had a crush on me eventually too, but we were almost afraid of each other. I flirted with her in the ways I knew how, trying to woo her over to truly let me in. Eventually she did and I could feel whole once more.

Five turned out to be a traitor, but I couldn't help but want to save him. If he was going to be so powerful and bloodthirsty, I had to find a way to convert him, even if I had to bear the suffering as well. When Nine taunted him one last time and he broke, I did not really think, I just acted on my own still-caring nature. As I teleported to save Nine, I could only see and hear flashes of the others. Nine was screaming, Marina looked shocked, unable to process all that happening, Five was enraged with his darked to a point of no emotion.

The sword exploded through me and I felt my entire being go painfully numb.

I wanted to tell Marina goodbye, to tell them all to remain strong, but it was in vain. Blood filled my throat and I collapsed, my life spinning out of me rapidly. At least Nine would be alive- He is an idiot but we need him. I saved my friend and protected Marina to the best of my ability, but it was my life that bore the cost of these decisions.

In my last thoughts I know the others would feel pain far worse than my own, but they were strong. They would cope, survive, and Lorien would rise again. That is all I had to cling and believe other than Marina truly loving me at one point.

I hoped she would be happy again someday.

These thoughts came in rapid fire, too fast for even me to process, but in this death I can. I watch the others struggle with that regret but that wound will eventually close over. Their mourning over me will eventually become a numb reminder and they will be happy one day again despite all of us have been broken.

I have reunited with Reynolds and met Adelina in death. I am positive Marina will love it here one day.

I watch her begin developing stronger mixed feelings toward Nine. There are traces of longing when their gazes meet but nothing more. Eventually, I imagine they shall fall in love one way or another. I feel jealously at times for this, but at least she will be happy. Either way, all of us will win in the end, if not on Lorien then in this peaceful dead state.

She has not cried and for that, I do not feel regret for my decision.

* * *

_**Nine**_

_Crying like a girl. _

If I had kept my mouth shut, Eight would still be alive. He and Marina could have been lovebirds and I would have taken that blade. Marina and Six view me as callous, but I am not. I can feel as much as I hate this fact, and I do feel regret that runs deep in my bones. I've gone so far as to dream of what things would be like had he not been killed due to my own stupidity, which leaves me to wake up even more numb than I feel when I merely replay the event back in my mind.

Marina has become more stoic, tougher. She rarely shows emotion and it drives Six and I both crazy. I grew used to her motherly smile and gentle nature, no matter how much it could annoy me. She was still able to love a little and I took it away from her. Now she is as cold as Six and I are, unable to feel a soft love like she was growing with Eight.

I am a murderer. I do not create joy or anything pleasent like Ella, Marina, or Eight did at one point. All I can do is destroy.

I miss the fool. He deserved to live and I deserve to die- I have always deserved to die. I am worth nothing to the humans and worth brutal death to the Mogodorians- my fellow Loric will likely resent me until we all die. I am broken, too, and eventually we will all deal with it in a better way. Until then the wound is fresh and we all mourn in our separate ways.

What they do not know is how ready I was to die. If that blade had took my life, maybe I could've found peace. I will not say Eight stole it for me, but part of me believes that I deserved it more than he. I know it's not true, however; he deserved life but he deserved that fabeled peace. I have been left to try holding the broken pieces and shattered regrets again, just as did when Sandor and Maddy died.

It was private, silent, and will forever be unknown, but I was the only one who dared to cry 'like a girl' that night.


End file.
